


Alcohol Brings Out the Worst ( or Best) of Us

by lapsaptong



Category: Soul Calibur, Tekken
Genre: Affection, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crack Relationships, Cute, Drunken Confessions, Fluff, Groh's soul charge is him drunk around annoying people, Jin is very done, M/M, Modern Take on Soul Charge, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-15 18:06:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18674782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lapsaptong/pseuds/lapsaptong
Summary: Grøh gets drunk, and Lars has to take care of him.--or--FLUFF EVERYWHERE.





	Alcohol Brings Out the Worst ( or Best) of Us

**Author's Note:**

> Just a small response to a reply on Twitter after I posted a story. I have never gotten drunk, but I've had a lot of clingy drunk friends around me.

Lars groaned, walking down the halls to his and Grøh’s shared apartment room. His stressful week of midterms and work was finally over, and all he wanted to do was to see his boyfriend and sleep forever. Checking his watch, the brunette saw the time and hastened his steps a bit.

_10:30 PM._

As he reached the door, Lars saw a neatly folded note taped to the door. Ripping it off and opening the small piece of paper, he saw Jin’s handwriting.

 

_Hwoarang and Lee gave your significant other too much to drink. I helped him back when he started to…act. My apologies, cousin._

_-Jin_

 

Lars blinked at the note, frozen outside the door. He reread it again, wanting to roll his eyes at Jin’s formalities, but that wasn’t important. He quickly shuffling out his keys and phone.

Grøh never got drunk.

In other words, no one has seen him drunk, even Curtis. He would drink a bottle of beer during small get togethers or not drink so he could drive anyone home if needed to.

Until now, Lars thought, shoving his key into the lock and opening it. The room was dark save for the small areas illuminated by the moonlight of the full moon.

“Grøh? I’m home,” Lars announced, locking the door behind him and setting his backpack next to Grøh’s white messenger bag by the kitchen bar, “Grøh?”

The brunette looked over to couch and and over, seeing Grøh lying down there, dressed in his large white shirt that covered the black shorts he wore, eyes closed and face tinted red. The older male looked away for a second, hand over his reddening face.

_Fuck he’s adorable wearing my stuff._

Regaining his thoughts, Lars went around the couch, knelt down, and gently pressed a hand against the white-haired man’s cheek, watching the other stir and mumble something, dilated indigo eyes opening slowly.

"Hey,” he whispered as the other stared at him, a small frown on his face, “You okay?”

Grøh didn’t say anything, blinking at him.

He was definitely drunk.

Thinking of killing his brother and cousin’s friend later, Lars carefully helped his boyfriend sit up. “You’re really quiet when you’re drunk, huh?” He asked, moving to sit on the couch and pulling the other closer to support him. “‘m not…drunk,” the other mumbled, moving a bit and resting his head against Lars’ chest, eyes closing at the steady rhythm of his heartbeat and the comforting feeling of his hair being ruffled.

“Mhm,” The brunette hummed, “Let’s get you to bed, yeah?”

“…no.”

Lars blinked, looking down at him. The younger man was frowning, or pouting, brows clinched tight.

“No?”

The white haired man finally moved, suddenly pulling away from the brunette, sitting on his lap, and wrapping his arms around broad shoulders. “I’m comfortable right here,” Grøh whispered, gazing down at the other. Lars smiled, bringing his own arms around the other’s waist and pulling him closer.

“I love you,” Grøh whispered, looking down at his boyfriend, who returned the smile. The smaller male brought his forehead against the other’s, hands trailing up and cupping his face and brushing several brown strands behind his ears, their eyes meeting.

“I love you, too,” Lars replied just as quiet, straightening his back and kissing him. He hummed as his drunk boyfriend responded back, smiling against the other’s lips as one arm moved up and rubbed soothing circles on his back. When they separated, Grøh rested his head on Lars’ shoulder, slumping slightly as Lars chuckled, hand burying in the silky white locks.

“You’re cute when you’re drunk,” the older man said, wanting to enjoy this moment for a bit longer. He only received a mumble and then silence, feeling a steady heartbeat and breathing.  After several minutes, Lars finally began to move.

Adjusting his hold and Grøh’s arms to be over his shoulders, Lars picked his boyfriend up and carried him to their shared room, humming quietly to himself. He managed to untangle himself from Grøh’s sudden hold and lay him on the bed before changing into his sweatpants since his shirt was already taken (and he was too tired to get a new one). He grabbed his phone and turned it on, seeing how it was buzzing with messages and climbed into bed, wrapping an arm around Grøh.

The white haired man cuddled up to him instantly, legs tangling with one another, making Lars sigh and smile, stroking his hair. Pulling up his phone, Lars unlocked the screen and quickly took a picture of himself and Grøh, smiling at the outcome. He then tapped on his messages and replying his thanks to Jin.

 

_Lars: Thanks for bringing him back safely._

_Jin: You may not want to open Hwoarang’s or Lee’s messages…maybe just Hwoarang’s._

_Lars: What? Why?_

_Jin: …Good night._

 

Lars frowned, changing to Lee’s messages and seeing photos of Grøh sitting around drinking and of him being slightly flushed. There wasn’t anything embarrassing on Grøh; he was just brooding and pouting while nursing his beer. (Lars found it cute.)

Finally opening SnapChat and to Hwoarang’s name, Lars tapped on it, watching what played out. Long story short, Grøh’s well-known patience and high tolerance doesn’t exist when drunk, and Hwoarang received the brunt of it, yet right now, he was docile and affectionate.

Strange.

The brunette sighed, reaching out and putting his phone on the bedside table. He could deal with the aftermath tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
